Anya Lehnsherr | Earth 97400 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fridgetothefire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-12-09 11:50 pm
fridgetothefire) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-12-09 11:50 pm
Entry tags:
light one candle for all we believe in
Who: Anya and Magneto
When: Backdated to the 8th
Where: HoA, Magneto's apartment
Summary: a small family holiday
Warnings: They're bad at the family thing. But they're trying.
She has dim memories of oddly unchristian Christmases, the Romani adopting some of the practices of their Ukrainian neighbors without all the solemn Orthodox teachings that went with it. She remembers songs and fruit stew and St. Nicholas's day - three weeks earlier - and someone being dressed up as a goat. She's almost certain she didn't make that up.
She's never been to a Hanukkah before. She lets herself in, knocking softly on the doorframe as she enters, even though she knows he could sense her long before. She sets down her bag and pulls out her own apron, second-hand and a bit stained like any good apron should be, but sturdy and decorated in pink flowers pulling silly places.
"It's good to see you," she begins. She doesn't even know how much she's telling the truth. It's still nerve-wracking to be near him, but he still wants her around at all, and that's - something.
When: Backdated to the 8th
Where: HoA, Magneto's apartment
Summary: a small family holiday
Warnings: They're bad at the family thing. But they're trying.
She has dim memories of oddly unchristian Christmases, the Romani adopting some of the practices of their Ukrainian neighbors without all the solemn Orthodox teachings that went with it. She remembers songs and fruit stew and St. Nicholas's day - three weeks earlier - and someone being dressed up as a goat. She's almost certain she didn't make that up.
She's never been to a Hanukkah before. She lets herself in, knocking softly on the doorframe as she enters, even though she knows he could sense her long before. She sets down her bag and pulls out her own apron, second-hand and a bit stained like any good apron should be, but sturdy and decorated in pink flowers pulling silly places.
"It's good to see you," she begins. She doesn't even know how much she's telling the truth. It's still nerve-wracking to be near him, but he still wants her around at all, and that's - something.